Dean Winchester Vs The Very Evil, Not Cute, Black Cat
by Center of the Galaxy
Summary: In which the boys find a black cat and Dean is convinced it's going to kill them. It doesn't.


_**Author's Note: **__My first non-angsty Supernatural piece ever! Originally written for Tumblr. You can send me requests there. I'm centerofthegalaxywrites. Please enjoy! _

* * *

To be fair, Sam didn't have much experience with pets.

Growing up on the road, his only encounter with normal animals came from random encounters with dogs at the local park or trying to coax cats to come out from bushes. While at Stanford, he'd gotten to know Jessica's cat, Minky, a fluffy rag doll, but the cat had never really taken a shine to him.

Of course, now that they had a bunker, he and Dean often tossed around the idea of getting a pet. Dean wanted a dog–the bigger the better–and Sam honestly was on board. Having a pet, it made him feel normal, almost like their world wasn't so messed up.

So, Dean resolved to go get a dog from a local shelter.

That's when the cat showed up.

"Dude." Dean pointed at the black fluff ball curled up at the bunker's secret entrance. It blinked, green eyes meeting theirs and tilted its head to the side, almost curious.

"It's cat, Dean."

"A _black_ cat, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes, "That doesn't actually mean anything, Dean. Black cats are just cats."

"Except, we know a lot of people–and demons–that would love to trick us into thinking that this is a normal cat. If we let it in, it'll kill us. Probably some were-cat or something."

The cat in question yawned, settling in for a nap on their doorstep.

"Yeah, it looks like a killer."

"Just leave it."

So, they ignored the cat and went inside.

* * *

Except, the cat never left.

It was there when they left for hunts in the morning and it was there when they stumbled in late at night. It never hissed at them or tried to get inside. It just seemed to really enjoy their doorstep.

"Okay, cat," Dean started, staring down at the black fluff ball that was more interested in a bath than dealing with the eldest Winchester's interrogation, "I'll bite. What do you want?"

The cat continued to lick itself.

"Who sent you? Crowley?"

The cat stopped its grooming to look at him. Those green eyes, so piercing and so bright, it made Dean want to do something like pet it.

"Meow?"

The cat was now rubbing his pant leg. It purred, sending vibrations up his leg as it continued to rub.

"Yeah," Sam teased with a smirk, "That looks like a cold-blooded killer."

Dean glared.

"Shut up, Sam."

He left the cat outside.

* * *

As the days passed, the nights grew colder and even though the cat had fur, he couldn't help but feel bad. What if it froze to death? Sure, it might be there to kill them, but it had done a piss poor job of that. The least Dean could do was let it come in for a day or two and let it warm up.

So, while Sam was at the grocery store, Dean opened the door to the bunker.

The black cat met his gaze, perking up.

"Okay, fur ball, let's get this straight. I'm in charge, not you. If I even think you're going to kill me or my brother, I will–"

The cat ignored him and began to stretch, flexing its claws.

"Hey!" Dean growled and the cat glanced upwards, "I mean it, cat." He held the door open, "Now, are you coming or not?"

The cat, spying a bird, chased after it, leaving Dean behind.

Dean tried not to feel a bit upset.

* * *

It took him three days, a plate full of tuna and allowing the cat to sit on his favorite spot on the couch to convince the cat to come in.

"So, are we cat owners now?" Sam watched the cat munch up the tuna, oblivious to the two brothers eyeing it curiously.

"Hell no. It's just cold outside."

Sam chuckled, "Sure."

"I mean it, Sam, we're not keeping it."

"Well, can we just name it, then? It's weird calling it and it."

"Black cat."

Sam pouted, "Dude, we're not calling it that. What about Midnight?"

"That's a stupid name."

"Yours was no better!"

"Maybe Luna?"

"Hellion!"

"There's no way the cat–"

The cat perked up, meowing.

"Cat?" Dean repeated.

The cat, responding, jumped easily onto the kitchen table, allowing Sam to scratch it behind the ears, purring.

"So," Sam grinned, "Cat it is."

"Okay," Dean agreed, "But Cat stays just for tonight, then off she goes."

"Yeah, right."

"I mean it, Sam."

Sam just laughed and Dean swore that Cat was laughing too.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__Please review if you have a moment! Thanks! _


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